Kids of Bohemia
by charmed1s-halliwells
Summary: The story of the rent characters at age 5. A story about each of them, and then they meet. Angel plays dressup, Maureen shows off, Roger is let down, Mark gets a present and much more.
1. Angel: Dress Up

**Kids of Bohemia**

**A/N: This story has been in my head for a long time. It's based on the movie-verse, and there's a chapter about each of them. The last chapter is about when they meet. The chapters are in no particular order. All the kids are 5. **

**Chapter 1: Angel: Dress – Up**

Angelo Dumott – Schunard had always been…well…different. He was only five years old, and already, everyone had noticed. The things he liked to do were different than what all the other boys in Mrs. Watson's kindergarten class liked to do. While the other boys enjoyed playing sports, Angelo liked to play with dolls. While the other boys liked to play cops and robbers, Angelo tried on dresses and pretended he was a princess. Normally, he didn't notice he wasn't like other boys. Most people were used to it. But sometimes, it made his daddy really angry.

Mr. Schunard spent most of his time at work. When he was home, he often had a very short temper. He would often yell at his wife and daughter, but most often, he would yell at Angelo. He ignored the fact that Angelo was small, frightened, and only five years old. Angelo didn't fit his idea of a normal son, and he made sure everyone knew it. It was during one of his dad's rare good moods that Angelo made a mistake.

Angelo was very excited. He had a wonderful day today in kindergarten. Normally, he would tell his mom or his sister Lucille all about it. Today, he couldn't do that because both of them weren't home. His dad seemed happy enough, so Angelo decided that it might be okay to tell him. He knew that his dad wanted a "normal" son. However, Angelo often didn't realize the things he did that weren't considered normal.

"Hey daddy…" Angelo said softly. He looked down at his feet as he spoke. Mr. Schunard looked up from the paper he was reading. "Today, at school was so fun. I was playing with Billy and Joe today at recess. They're the most coolest boys ever! They're much nicerer than the other boys. Then since they both gots nicknames, they maded one for me too. Now they call me Angel."

Angelo stopped talking. He couldn't help but let the excitement creep into his voice. Two boys in his class actually wanted to play with him! They liked him enough to give him his very own nickname. The name Angel seemed to just work for him. His father was eerily silent for a moment. That was just the calm before the storm.

" That's a girls' name", his father remarked. His tone was very cold. Angelo couldn't look his father in the eye. He could only look at his feet. He hated when his father talked to him like that. It was sort of scary. "No son of mine is going to be called by a girl name. You're enough of a freak already! You hear me?!?" Mr. Schunard was yelling loudly now.

Angelo knew there was only one acceptable answer to this question. "Yes sir", Angelo answered, his voice shaking slightly. His father mumbled something inaudible gruffly, and returned to his newspaper. However, Angelo could tell that his father still wasn't happy. He ran up the stairs and into the bedroom. Just in case, he closed the door.

His mother and his 13 year old sister Lucille came home shortly after. Angelo felt much happier and much safer now that they were there. They ate a quick delicious dinner, and then Angelo got some wonderful news. His mommy and daddy were going to go out on a date after dinner. As usual, he would be babysat by his older sister Lucille. He loved staying with Lucille. When she was in charge, he got to do things he didn't normally get to do.

His sister didn't actually pay attention to him. She didn't really like babysitting. That's why Angelo got to do whatever he wanted. She spent most of the time on the phone or watching TV, just like other girls her age. When he was absolutely sure his sister was occupied, he snuck into his parents' room. Normally, the rule was that he wasn't aloud in his parents' room. Today, things were different.

Quietly, he tiptoed inside the room, and softly closed the door. He was very afraid of getting caught. That's why it took him so long to walk in. He was listening to hear if Lucille had noticed him. It took him a while to find something interesting in the room. Finally, he found what he wanted. He saw his mother's makeup box. He had always wanted to play with it, but it was high up on a dresser. This was his treasure, one thing he always dreamed of getting his hands on. Only when his parents were out did he risk touching it.

Carefully, he took the lipstick, eyeliner, blush and mascara out of the beautiful box. Then, very slowly, and with precision only practice could bring, he applied the make-up. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the lipstick in a straight line, nor could he put on the mascara correctly. It didn't matter that to someone else the makeup might look a little weird. In Angelo's mind, it was perfect. For once, he felt beautiful.

Angelo did a little twirl around while looking in the mirror. He had a lot of fun putting on makeup. It was fun to pretend things like this. Still, he felt that something was missing from his look. For a few minutes, he went in his mother's closet and riffled through her clothes. There were so many beautiful things to chose from. They were all really big of course, but that didn't matter. Finally, he chose a bright pink tank top, and a black skirt.

He paused, but when he heard no sound, he put on the clothes. The clothes were enourmous on him, but somehow, they felt right. They were much better than the clothes he normally wore. He especially liked the colour of the shirt. Pink was such a pretty colour. He didn't understand why his daddy always said that boys weren't aloud to wear pink. He hated boy things and girl things. They were all wrong and stupid in his opinion.

Angelo had just decided that Angel was a much prettier name. Maybe one day it would stop being a nickname, and he could use it forever. He studied himself in the mirror for a long time. He looked really pretty. Even the mean people would have to admit that. These clothes were the kind he wished to wear every day, although he would never tell that to his father. Angel just seemed to like more of the things that were for girls. It wasn't his fault, and he couldn't help it.

It was while wearing his mother's clothing and makeup that the young boy now called Angel first appreciated how truly different he was. Sometimes, it wasn't very fun being different. The cruelty of other people had already taught him that. That's why it was special on the rare occasions when he got to dress up like this. It felt much more normal to him than anything had every felt. The things that the other boys did are what felt weird.

For him, wearing makeup and girls clothes felt normal. It made him feel happy. He wished he could feel like this all the time. No one, especially his daddy, would ever understand. When he tried to be like everyone else, it felt like he was lying. His normal clothes felt like playing dress-up. In that moment, five year old Angel had decided that when eh grew up, he would be himself.

Angel was letting his imagination run away with him. That's what his kindergarten teacher told him he did all the time. Sometime, imagining was better than real life. He was imagining what it would be like if her were a girl. He knew it was impossible, but it was fun imagining. It would be fun, and he wouldn't be different anymore.

Girls tended to like to do the same kinds of things that he did. At recess, only girls liked to play with him. His favourite toys were things that girls liked to play with, like Lucille's old Barbie's. It wouldn't actually be that hard to be a girl. When he grew up, he could just dress up like this all the time. That way he would always be happy. Things would always feel right.

Dressing up in mommy's clothes and wearing her makeup did one other thing. It made him feel normal. He never felt normal before. Everything in his world suddenly made sense. A lot of days ago, he wasn't sure how many, his teacher talked about this thing called careers. He didn't remember a lot of things, but he did remember when she talked about that weird word. She explained that it was just jobs that grown up people. At that time, Angel couldn't of one he'd like to do. Now he had the perfect idea.

"When I'm growned up, I'm going to help people like me", he said to his reflection in the mirror. He was determined to do it. He didn't want people to feel abnormal like he did. It seemed silly that he was the only one who was different. He always learned in kindergarten that everyone was different. "I'm going to understand that they could be themselves", he continued. For, although Angel was young, he understood that he had to be himself. This idea made him happy because it didn't seem to be so hard. Everyone should be able to be the way they were.

This idea made Angel feel a lot less like a weirdo, which is what his daddy sometimes called him when he thought Angel couldn't hear. Angel's makeup wasn't near perfect, and his clothes didn't fit, but he didn't really care. This game of dress up was more real than anything else had ever been. No matter what anyone else would think, at that moment, he felt like an angel.

**I'll update in about a week if I get a lot of reviews. The next chapter focuses on Maureen. Please read and review! **


	2. Maureen: Applause

**Chapter 2: Maureen: Applause**

**A/N: Sorry this took so long. Blame school, I've been so busy. I hope this is good. Thanks for all your nice reviews. I hope to get more. I'm hoping I kept Maureen in character, since I meant to. I'll update as soon as I can, but school really sucks. So many project all at once! Enjoy this chapter. The next one focuses on Roger. **

It was Thursday, the day 5 year old Maureen Johnson hated the most. This was the day that her mother invited all of her lady friends over for lunch. It happened every Thursday, and Maureen was always terribly bored. She liked action, and her mother's friends didn't. Most of all, Maureen didn't like her mother's friends. They were old, boring, and they smelled bad. All Maureen wanted to do was sing and dance. Her mother's friends preferred things quiet. This particular Thursday, Maureen wanted to show everyone her new dance. Her mother said no, so Maureen was throwing a tantrum. When Maureen had a tantrum, it was best to stay away.

She threw herself on the floor, and began crying loudly. "I…want…to …show them!" Maureen half screamed and half cried. She was bright red, kicking, screaming, and pounding her fists. She was making such a racket, that the whole neighbourhood could probably hear her. One of the rules of Thursday was that Maureen was to be a good girl. Maureen Johnson was never a good girl, and she knew it. Her kindergarten teacher sent home bad notes often enough. Being bad had proved to be much better than being good. When she was bad, she got what she wanted.

"Maureen, darling", Mrs. Johnson said as calmly as she could, "You can't dance for my friends. I only get to see my friends once a week…and I don't want you disturbing them." One would think that Mrs. Johnson would have been used to this by now. She took care of Maureen all day long, and her daughter had always been…difficult. Mrs. Johnson sounded very tired. Being Maureen's mother was enough to make anyone constantly exhausted.

Maureen furrowed her brow, and looked at her mother quizzically. She looked confused, and Maureen hated being confused. "What's…. 'disurbeded' mean?" Maureen asked. One thing she hated was people saying things she didn't know, which happened often. Maureen liked to know everything.

"Well, it's like…when you're bothering them by doing something they don't like", Mrs. Johnson explained slowly. Maureen understood now. This big word didn't mean anything new. It was just a fancy grown up way not to be bad. Her mother and everyone else told her that all the time. If that's the way her mommy wanted to do things, then fine. She wasn't going to give up without a fight. It would be her mommy's fault, since her stupid friends had to come over.

"You're sisturbing me!" Maureen yelled at the top of her lungs. She was using her mother's big word against her. She ran up the stairs as fast as she could, ran into her room, and slammed the door shut. Maureen vaguely heard her mother say that she ought to have said _disturbed_. One thing she hated more than not knowing things was being corrected. Only a real meanie would correct her. Her mommy was a real meanie.

Maureen sat cross legged on her neon green bed spread. Maureen loved her bedroom the best out of all the rooms in the house. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson didn't like going in Maureen's room. Other than the constant mess, they also regretted the decision of letting her decorate her own room. They wanted to foster her creativity. The room really reflected the 5 year old's personality. If you were to walk into the room, everything would seem to shimmer. Her Barbie's still lay in a pile on the floor from the last time she had played with them.

For a few moments, Maureen did something that no one had ever seen her do. No, it wasn't that she said please and thank you without being reminded ten times. That had still yet to happen. Normally, Maureen was very loud and always moving. Instead, she sat on her bed completely still and silent. If someone walked passed the door, they wouldn't be able to tell that she was there. She was like this because she needed to concentrate and form a plan. She would show her mother not to mess with her. They would watch her dance, and they would applaud.

As she was thinking, she heard soft and overly polite sounding voices from downstairs. That could only mean one thing. Her mother's friends had arrived at last. Maureen could clearly picture them clearly, drinking tea and talking about stupid stuff. When Maureen decided it was time for her to be bad, things wouldn't be so boring anymore. They would watch her dance and like it. She would make sure of that. She leaped off the bed, and tiptoed out the door. Soon, she would show them all.

Maureen was very quiet as she made her way down the stairs. This was very weird for her, but for her plan to work, she had to be quiet. She didn't want her mother or her mother's friends to look up and see her sneaking down the stairs. None of the very nicely dressed ladies had even seen her. Maureen hated not being noticed, but there'd be time later. All of the lovely ladies were sitting in the living room. Maureen had long ago learned how these afternoons worked. Eventually they would move into the kitched, and Maureen would be waiting.

She walked into the kitchen and hid behind the counter. She was the only one who could fit there. When it was the perfect moment, she would jump out from her hiding spot and surprise them. They would never suspect a thing. She waited there for a whole bunch of minutes, she didn't know how many, which was normally very hard for Maureen. Today, she was determined to learn to wait.

They were talking about their homes, their clothes, and their husbands. Stupid stuff, and Maureen had always known it. She began jumping up and down, since she was so bored of waiting. She wanted it to be a good surprise for them. Still, doing nothing was so hard. She decided that she only had to wait a little longer. Then, they would definitely want to watch her dance.

She only had to wait a little longer so she could be sure that no one would notice her before it was time. When she was sure that they were immersed in their conversation, she jumped from her hiding spot. The ladies gasped in surprise, just as Maureen wanted them too. This was working perfectly.

Maureen smiled mischievously, which was becoming somewhat of her trademark. It was the smile that Mrs. Johnson knew all too well. It was the smile that mean her daughter was up to something. Whatever she was up to, it had to be bad. It was the smile Mrs. Johnson had come to dread. Mrs. Johnson braced herself for the worst. "I'm going to show you! Maureen exclaimed proudly. Mrs. Johnson didn't know what that could mean. With Maureen, people rarely had a clue.

Mrs. Johnson quickly ran through all the possibilities. None of them were good. Then, all of a sudden, Maureen started to dance. She had a huge grin on her face the whole time. All of the prim and proper ladies looked at the little girl in shock. None of their children would ever dare to behave like that. They all knew better. Mrs. Johnson turned bright red with embarrassment. Her friends would never let her live this down.

Maureen finished her dance with a curtsey, just as her dance teacher had taught her to do. She looked like she was enjoying herself. Then she waited very patiently, just as she had been taught. Maybe she wouldn't need to do anything drastic after all. Maybe for once she would get some benefit out of being good. She waited and waited for them to clap. That's what you were supposed to do, but the ladies did nothing but stare. They were doing things all wrong!

When someone was done performing, you were supposed to clap. That was the way things worked. Maureen learned that in dance class. Sometimes, she forgot, but she knew you were supposed to clap. Also, it made her really happy when people clapped for her. Why would those ladies not clap for her? That was mean. Did they not like their dancing? Well, they didn't know what they were talking about.

Maureen figured that they might have forgotten. Sometimes she forgot to do things after all, and it wasn't so bad. "What're you supposed to do?" Maureen said encouragingly. She thought she was helping them. The ladies still stared at her blankly. They were the rudest people ever! She couldn't take it anymore. She screamed, partly out of frustration, and partly out of her love for the dramatic. Ten she ran upstairs to her room, stomping her feet the whole way.

She slammed her door loudly, simply for dramatic effect. Her mommy was such a meanie. Her friends were mean too. Everyone was supposed to watch her when she danced, and they were supposed to like it. She hated all of them, and she didn't understand. Her mom wanted her to be different than she really was. Her mom was always acting good. She could never be good, and she couldn't help it. She tried to be the way her mommy wanted. She would always like to sing and dance.

Maureen was very angry, and when she was angry like that, she began to cry. She couldn't help it. As the tears began to flow freely down her face, she immediately wiped them away. It was no fun to cry, unless you did it on purpose. It also made her look uncool. She heard faint noises coming from downstairs. The mean ladies hadn't left yet.

She didn't care about them. She had always known they were stupid. They were just like her mommy. She had finally stopped crying, so she had got up from her bed where she had been sitting. She went through her dance one more time in front of the mirror. She did it perfectly. So she couldn't understand why nobody liked it and clapped. She was really pretty and really great, just like always. That was what she couldn't understand.

As she finished her dance, she thought she might try it again later. It was really fun, and after her mommy's stupid friends left, maybe her mommy would watch. If she tried a whole bunch of times, she could only get better, and then the ladies would have to be nice. She just had to keep trying to get what she wanted, just like she always did. When she grew up, she would perform on a real live stage, and she would make everyone clap for her.

**TBC...**


	3. Roger: Always Been Let Down

**Chapter 3: Roger: Always Been Let Down**

**A/N: Sorry this took so long. Blame school…or the many things I have to do. Or you could blame me. I do have two more chapters of this written out. I just need to fix it. I'll try to update again really soon. I don't want to promise, but I'll really try. This chapter is good, I promise. It's also pretty sad. It attempts to explain how Roger's been "let down". Next comes Mark. I don't own Rent. Please read, then review. Also…enjoy! **

It was the middle of the night, way passed his bed time, but Roger Davies couldn't sleep. He always had trouble falling asleep right away. It was especially difficult when everything wasn't completely quiet. He leaned over the edge of his top bunk to look at his older brother Eric. His brother was fast asleep. The clock on their end table read 12:05 a.m. It was no time for a five year old to be awake, and yet, Roger couldn't sleep.

He heard noises in the room next to the one he shared with his brother. This wasn't anything new. The voices coming from the room were angry, just as they always were. In fact, Roger rarely remembered hearing his parents not angry. There were many nights when Roger listened to his parents fight in their room. Sometimes he watched too. No one ever noticed him. He strained to listen to what they were fighting about. It didn't seem as bad as usual. His daddy hadn't broken anything, and his mommy wasn't crying…not yet. It was almost like they were just talking.

The voices got a little louder, just like they always did when things got scary. Almost silently, Roger walked down the ladder. He wished he could just go back to bed, but he couldn't. He needed to know what's going on. His parents always tried to hide things from him. Roger didn't like not knowing, he had to know what was going on.

"If only you'd spend a little more time with Roger…" Mrs. Davies was saying, her voice raised only slightly. The moment Roger heard it was about him, he tried to stop listening. He tried to think of nice things, like racecars, or the guitar lessons that he had just started. His father had an old guitar, and he'd gotten so excited when he heard Roger wanted to learn. It was one of the few times Roger saw his dad not angry.

When things got like this, normally, Roger found it impossible not to listen. His dad was yelling now. "It's always something with you! If it's not the kids, it's money. If it's not money, it's how I spend my evenings!" Mr. Davies yelled. All of the things he was mentioning, Roger had heard them argue about before. It was surprising the entire block didn't hear him. Roger thought Eric would wake up. Then there was what sounded like something being thrown into a wall, and his mother crying. These were two sounds he hated, but had unfortunately got used to hearing.

Then something happened that had never happened before. The door flew open, and Roger's father stood in the doorway. No one saw Roger yet. He was used to not being noticed, as he was the smallest. "I've had enough! It's over!" yelled Mr. Davies. He glanced briefly at Roger indicating that he had seen him, but didn't say anything. His father slammed the door behind him, bringing Roger back to reality.

He stood frozen in shock for a very long moment. Roger wasn't sure he understood what had just happened. His father had never walked out like that before. He was very confused. Where had his dad gone? Surely he would have to come back before the morning. He had seen his dad yell a lot, but never had he been so scary.

He saw that his mom as still crying in her room. Normally, she stopped herself from crying when her kids were around. Roger felt like crying too after what he had seen, so he went to join her. She was sitting on the bed sobbing. She didn't look up when Roger entered the room. Roger sat down beside her and rested his head on her shoulder. That's when she noticed her son. "Roger?" she said, "oh my goodness, we've woken you…you must've heard…I'm so sorry."

She was crying even harder after she said all that, really fast. Roger didn't understand what she was sorry for. She hadn't done anything bad. It was his daddy who was being mean. Besides, it wasn't as if all the other nights he had listened had been any different, right? Roger wished his dad would hurry up and come back already. He decided to ask his mother where he was. She should know, after all. "Mommy, where's daddy?" he asked innocently.

Roger hadn't understood how the question would effect his mother. She was at a loss for words. His mother started to cry a little harder. Roger didn't understand what he had done to cause that. It wasn't that hard of a question, right? After a moment, his mother answered, choosing her words carefully. "Daddy went out", was all she said. Roger waited for her to say more, since he didn't understand what was so bad.

His dad went out all the time. His mommy said he went to bad places. Roger knew he went there sometimes with pretty sounding ladies. He heard when he picked up the phone when his dad and the ladies were talking. His mom told him not to do that, and called it eavesdropping, but he did it a lot. It always made his mommy a little mad when his dad went out. Still, this time, there had to be something different.

"So when's daddy coming back? He asked insistently. He really wanted to know how long his father would be gone. His mom looked away before she answered. She seemed to be remembering that she didn't' like it when he saw her cry. It took her an extremely long time to answer.

"He's not coming back", she said after a long pause. Suddenly, everything made sense to Roger. His father would not come through the door early in the morning as he normally did when he went out. Nothing would ever be the same again. He would never play catch with his daddy, or go to the park. He probably would never see his daddy ever again. His dad was supposed to teach him how to play guitar. That wasn't going to happen anymore.

Even now that he understood that his father really had left, Roger still was confused. Everyone was supposed to have a mommy and a daddy who lived together. That was the way all of the other kids at school's families were. Everyone had a daddy, and now, Roger would be the only one who didn't. Not only that, but he would miss his daddy very much. He had a billion question for his mommy, but he didn't ask them. Who would drive him to school in the morning? His daddy did that. Who would help him with the songs on the guitar? What would he do?

He didn't ask them, because at that moment, he heard footsteps. His heart leaped with excitement. That could be his daddy coming back after all. It turned out to be only his brother Eric. Normally, Eric could sleep through a hurricane, so it was surprising to see him awake. Roger's brother walked into the room in his racecar pajamas, rubbing his eyes. "Mommy, what's happening? I heard noises", Eric said. He was 8, which was really old according to Roger, but he could be slow sometimes. Eric too sat on the bed, on the other side of their mother.

Slowly, Mrs. Davies began explain what had happened to her older son. Roger could tell she was leaving things out. She didn't say any of the bad words their daddy had said to her. Roger didn't know what those words meant, but one time at school, he said one, and he got sent to the principal. They must've been really bad. She was also making it sound like it wasn't so bad that daddy was gone. What could be not bad about that?

She talked about how things would be better this way. "Daddy and I still love you and Roger very much", she was saying to Eric, trying to calm him, when he learned that his father had left. "We just don't love each other anymore", she said. That part was definitely true. People who loved each other didn't make each other cry. People who loved each other didn't leave. She said that this would be much better for everyone. She said that their father would visit, and Roger really hoped he would.

She seemed to be saying all this as much as to convince herself than as to convince her sons. It seemed that Eric, at least, believed her. Perhaps it was because he hadn't seen or heard what Roger had all those nights. Roger still looked very upset, which troubled Mrs. Davies. Roger didn't show his feelings very easily. She had noticed how Roger was when he played with the other children. The teacher had called her often enough. He was somewhat of a bully. His mother knew that he just wanted to be cool, and to keep up this tough attitude, he tried not to cry.

Eric said that he was tired, and he wanted to go back to sleep now. Roger didn't understand how anyone could sleep, after something like this. He didn't know how he would ever sleep again. His daddy was the one who normally tucked him in. Instead of go back to the room he and Eric shared, Roger curled up into a ball next to his mother and finally, he cried. His mother didn't know what to do or what to say. She hugged him, hoping that somehow, she would be able to comfort him. As for what she could say, there was nothing.

Roger wasn't the one who got like this. That's why his mother was worried. She had worried before of course. It was usually worrying when Roger was having trouble reading, or when Roger got into fights. Now she had new things to worry about. How would she pay the bills? How would she feed the kids? She knew she would figure it out, but the most worrying part was raising two kids on her own. She wanted her sons to have more than she ever had, but now that seemed impossible. She would have to work much harder now, and she would have to do it alone.

Roger really wanted to stop crying, but he couldn't. He was having a much harder time than his brother. It was because although Roger was younger, he understood more. For weeks, Roger had listened, and he had watched. He had known exactly how much his parents fought, and the things they said to each other. Still, he had never expected this. He saw more than anyone ever gave him credit for. He was five, but he wasn't stupid. Eventually, Roger moved closer to his mother, and cried himself to sleep. Roger wouldn't sleep well that night that night, nor would he sleep well many nights that followed.

Roger had realized that when he had seen his father walk out the front door, he really was never coming back….


End file.
